


Get out

by unknownlifeform



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII (Video Game 1997), Final Fantasy VII Remake (Video Game 2020)
Genre: Gen, Heavy Angst, M/M, Medical Torture, Mental Health Issues, Mild Gore, Nightmares, Past Child Abuse, Unhealthy Relationships, neither are his coping mechanism, or anything about him really, the sefikura is not the focus but sephiroth's interest sure isn't healthy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-05
Updated: 2020-09-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:41:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26305048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unknownlifeform/pseuds/unknownlifeform
Summary: Sephiroth can't dream anymore. Cloud can. Sometimes, Cloud can dream for him too. Sephiroth wishes he didn't.(Inspired by art)
Relationships: Sephiroth/Cloud Strife
Comments: 14
Kudos: 88





	Get out

**Author's Note:**

> PLEASE make sure you read the tags. This is not a happy fic  
> Inspired by [this comic here by corzev](https://corzev.tumblr.com/post/623628295053918208/dont-repost-you-shouldnt-be-here)

Sleep was an animal function required to keep the brain working correctly. Sephiroth had always needed it less than what was considered average. Now, he did not sleep at all. Not truly dead, not alive in the most traditional sense, the biology of basics human functions didn't quite work for him anymore.

That didn't mean he didn't need to rest. He did, but he would never reach the state of deep sleep humans experienced. All he could do was retreat into his mind, temporarily isolating himself from the world, even if he always retained a level of consciousness.

And sometimes, Sephiroth felt he'd lose it if he didn't shut off from everything else. The awareness of all his copies running around, Mother's own presence eternally pulling at the edges of his mind, the Lifestream's constant screaming. Maybe a god would be able to handle all that input, but unfortunately Sephiroth didn't quite qualify yet. On the long run, it became too mentally draining to juggle all the information.

What Sephiroth could do was close his eyes, and fold himself to fit in the depths of his being. He pushed himself away from the world, felt all those voices fade in the background, struggling to reach him.

It was comforting, like this. Nothing but quiet darkness. No Mother, no copies, not even awareness of his own body. It was a breath of relief, to not be pulled and poked and prodded by all those things that shared his DNA. Every time, Sephiroth found himself wishing to just stay like this, in this not-sleep that was not too far from death.

He would wake up soon. There were many things he had to do. He just needed to be alone with his own thoughts for a time.

Even like this, he was never truly alone. But he could choose to push himself in the direction of those connections that didn't shout and demand.

Cloud, Sephiroth never shut off. Cloud didn't try to push himself in Sephiroth's direction. Cloud wasn't even aware the connection was there, and Sephiroth had to wonder how that could be, because to him it couldn't be more obvious.

But it was alright like that. Cloud was... safe. Relaxing. His mind brushed against Sephiroth's without trying to dive in.

Now Cloud was sleeping. Sephiroth couldn't read his thoughts, not entirely at least, but it was easy to tell whether he was awake or not. There was a soft quality to the barrier separating their minds then, when Cloud left his entirely unguarded. Sephiroth liked to push himself in Cloud's dreams when he the occasion presented itself. Not to take control of them, that inevitably led to Cloud waking up screaming. Sephiroth simply looked. Cloud was an endless source of fascination, and the workings of his subconscious mind were not exception to that.

Sephiroth, for his part, didn't dream. He simply recalled.

He settled near that connection to Cloud like a content cat, slipping deeper into his not-sleep, something almost intimate about putting his mind to rest so near to Cloud's. His thoughts started to wander from one thing to another without much of a coherent thread. Old memories resurfaced and then sank again, and he watched them as if they were a movie he hadn't truly been part of.

Wutai, a lifetime before, fire and blood and the opposing army running from him. His promotion to General, something that had once filled him with pride, and now he recognized it had simply been what he deserved. Faces danced in front of him, faces that smiled and joked and talked to him as a friend, faces Sephiroth rarely thought about anymore.

A glimpse of a city. Midgar, the slums, the crumbling houses and garbage at the sides of the streets. He had never spent much time in those parts of Midgar, but his memories were fickle things when he was in this state, showing him small details mixed with important events.

Shinra Tower, perfect glass windows overlooking the city. The modern architecture, the well lit public spaces. The steel grey of the labs. Tubes – a green liquid in a tube – all around him, he looked out, or maybe he was looking in at someone suspended in it – which did his breathing not feel right -

A cold, medical light cut into Sephiroth's eyes like a knife. Too, too bright, his eyesight was far too sensitive for it.

He breathed in fast, oxygen mask tight around his face. His eyes darted around frantically. Dark figures surrounded by too white light, doctor coats and surgical masks making them look like featureless ghosts.

"Subject's pulse is accelerating," said a voice, disembodied and mechanical.

"Still within safe values. Let's proceed," another replied, equally lacking in emotion. Something shined under the light, bright and sharp and metallic.

Sephiroth shook his head. Cuffs bit into his skin, keeping him in place. Tears wet his face, but no one cared about it. He wanted to scream, but he didn't have enough air for it, even with the oxygen they were giving him. His mouth moved under the mask, shaping words that didn't have sounds, protests and pleads.

He didn't want this. People moved above him, looking at his chest. Doing thing. To him, _inside_ him.

_Subject displays lowered reactions to chemicals than average._

It hurt, it hurt, it hurt. There was something cutting into him. It was  _wrong_ , there was air on parts that should never  feel it , and the doctors weren't putting him together again. They were opening him more. He wanted to throw up, but he couldn't, he hadn't been given anything to eat the day before,  surgery preparations. 

_Pain responses are also lowered._

Someone raised their hands from him. The gloves were covered in blood.

The monitors beeped faster. There were tubes and needles in his arms, making sure he didn't lose too much blood, that he didn't pass out from blood loss. They wouldn't even allow him that.

_More in depth knowledge on the subject's stress reactions is needed._

The tears were flowing faster now. Sephiroth's eyes rolled back into his head. There were fingers touching, prodding, rubbing on his in sides . His ears were starting to ring, maybe he was passing out at last, please let him pass out-

_His resilience to wounds and improved healing is remarkable. It is reasonable to say most wounds will not even leave scars._

_Subject's appearance mostly matches that of a child._

_Appearance._

A scream choked Sephiroth as he fell to his knees, hands clutching his chest.

Whole. Skin over muscle over bone. Nothing exposed. Everything was just the way it should be, not even a scar marring his chest. No mask on his face, no IVs needles in his arms. His chest rose and fell, and it _hurt_ , but there was no wound. His fingers felt his pectoral muscles and his sternum and no hole. There was just the phantom pain left by the memory.

Sephiroth was not a _child_. He had never been just a child, and he was most definitely not one now. He was a grown man, Demon of Wutai, feared by all. Experiments on him had stopped after he had joined SOLDIER, when he had become too valuable to Shinra for the Science Department to play with him at will. No one had cut him open since he was eleven, when the scientists had decided his insides looked human enough, that there was no need to bother with surgery, they could use other methods to study his pain resistance and unusual stress responses and apparent inability of going into shock the way he should-

He was _more_ than human. He was stronger and greater than any man could dream of being. It didn't matter what the Science Department thought, if they still wanted to experiment on him. If anyone ever tried to, Sephiroth would cut their heads right off their necks. There was no need for this fear.

This wasn't what normally happened in his rest cycle. It was like one of those nightmares he used to have, back before Cloud pushed him in the reactor. Sephiroth didn't dream anymore. He remembered, but it was never a flashback, it never truly touched him.

Someone breathed in. A sharp sound, one that spoke of fear and shock.

Sephiroth raised his head – _how pathetic, unworthy of him, curled up like a scared child_ – to find a familiar silhouette in front of him. Blonde hair sticking in every direction, battered SOLDIER uniform.

Cloud. That must be the reason. He had been dreaming. Sephiroth had made a mistake, falling into not-sleep with his consciousness so close to Cloud's, when Cloud's mental barriers were so low. They must have mixed together, Sephiroth must have borrowed Cloud's ability to dream.

In another occasion, Sephiroth would have felt thrilled by this new development of his and Cloud's connection. But now his mind was in disarray, phantom hands still on and inside his chest, and he wondered if he had taken Cloud's dream then what was it that Cloud had taken.

He stood up, walking to him. Cloud didn't notice, his back to Sephiroth, his attention turned to something in front of him.

Steel grey walls, with a glass window looking in. Over Cloud's head, Sephiroth saw on the other side of the window. A surgery room, machinery beeping with various data, doctors moving about. At the center of it a table, and a child on it. Wretched, pathetic little thing. Electrodes and tubes attached to a body too small to fight back. The only rebellion this weak creature had was the tears he shed. Nothing but a helpless victim of others around him.

The hospital gown was open wide on his chest, and Sephiroth could _see_ -

Cloud would be able to see it too. He was turned right that way. No doubt he was perfectly able of spotting the accelerated beating of the exposed heart. Sephiroth wanted to rip his eyes off, he shouldn't be seeing, not this. There were things that should be hidden forever, be it a ribcage beneath skin or these memories hidden in the back of Sephiroth's mind.

Sephiroth wanted Cloud's attention, he wanted to live in his thoughts, to have his loyalty, even Cloud's hatred was sweet and delightful. He didn't want Cloud to know of _this_ , for him to know of Sephiroth's old weakness, _small pathetic thing, a guinea pig with no choice but to submit-_

His hand clasped on Cloud's face. There was something like a muffled scream, a sound Sephiroth was in no state to relish.

"Get _out_ ," came out of his throat, in a voice he didn't quite recognize. No one was meant to see, no one had the right to delve deep inside him this way.

Everything around them distorted. For a brief moment, Sephiroth saw Cloud's room, Cloud's sleeping body jolting awake. Then, that also faded, and Sephiroth found himself back in his body.

With a snarl, he summoned Masamune. He was going to kill something, he didn't even care what. He was going to shed blood until it drowned out the memory of his own, until he no longer wanted to find Cloud and rip his mind to shreds to erase what he had witnessed.

He wanted to scream, and he wanted to curl up in a corner the way he used to as a child. The way that, to his deepest shame, he sometimes still did as an adult, once the dreams came. But no, no, he would not be so pathetic. Being hunted by memories was weakness, and there was no weakness in him anymore.


End file.
